


Trump

by 5SecondsAtTheDisco



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), Donald Trump - Fandom
Genre: 2016 US Presidential Election, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, American Politics, Australia, Dystopia, F/M, M/M, Mexico, Trump, United States, donald trump - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-25 01:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6175828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5SecondsAtTheDisco/pseuds/5SecondsAtTheDisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the not so distant future in (hopefully) an alternate universe, Donald Trump has won the US election. Him, being the obnoxious, racist, sexist prat he is, has collected a group of slaves - women, to be exact. One from each country around the world. When the 5 Seconds of Summer boys are asked (well, I say asked, but it's not like they're given much choice) to perform for him, Trump throws the leaders of the New Broken Scene into the hell hole that is his slave dungeon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which They Meet Donald J Trump

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy,  
> Please feel free to take this all too seriously, because, if I'm completely honest, yes, I do really hate Donald Trump. I don't even live in America and I hate him.  
> Also please don't repost this anywhere, and if you see it anywhere other than here or my tumblr ( aficloadoffics.tumblr.com ) please let me know :)  
> Please tell me what you think and I hope you all enjoy it!

"Michael, you can't come. If we fail and get caught... I can't bear the thought of what they'll do to you. Please, just stay here, stay safe," she said, her blue grey eyes glinting in what little light was in the dank cavern.  
"You think I can live with the thought of what will happen to you if you get caught? Don't you see? I'm in love with you. Fuck, I passed in love with you weeks ago. If I'm staying, so are you," Michael replied, his body tense as he held on to the last thing he had. She reached her hand up to cup his cheek, pulling his face down to connect their lips. They moved in sync, as though they were set to the same beat, playing the same song.  
"I have to go. Just... if you're gonna come, please don't do anything stupid. I can't lose you. Not now."

The White House glinted in the sunlight, making the four boys that stood outside it shiver. It was a building that used to represent freedom, but now was just a symbol of how easy it was to corrupt a nation.  
The young blonde boy was the first to gather his strength and walk toward the large doors, but the longer haired boy grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Guys, I have a bad feeling about this."  
"Well there isn't much we can really do about it, Ash," the darker skinned boy replied.  
"I know that, Cal. I just- if anything happens to you guys, I want you to know that these have been the best 7 years of my life."  
"Ash, can we just not think about that?" Luke asked, dragging the other three boys into a hug. Michael was the first to pull away.  
"We should go inside. They'll be wondering why we're taking so long," he said, running his fingers through his blue hair.  
The boys grabbed the bags holding their instruments and made their way into the mansion.

The boys had just finished sound checking when he entered, in all his fake-looking-haired glory. Trump. The monster himself. The king of hell. The story mothers tell to scare their children. The- you get the picture.  
The boys were scared into a silence as they stopped their unusually tense goofing off. "Five. Seconds. of. Summer," he said in his horrid drone, which he tried to make sound sing-song, but it really didn't work. "It's so nice to finally meet you." A sly smile spread on Trump's face.  
The boys gulped. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Trump," Ashton replied, his voice shaking.   
"Has anyone offered you boys a drink?"  
_He's being strangely polite_ , Luke thought,  _something isn't right_. Ashton shook his head.  
"Jacobs? Send in one of the, ah, maids. Maybe Australia?" Trump addressed a guard.  
"Yes sir,"Jacobs replied, leaving the room and returning only seconds later, accompanied by a girl with flowing red hair. Her body was scarred and bruised under the short crop top and stereotypical genie pants, and many of the wounds looked fresh. She wore a stony expression on her too pale face. In her hands she carried a tray with a delicate white floral teapot and matching teacups.  
"Maybe you would like to offer the boys a drink, Australia?" Trump requested. She walked toward them, but her mouth remained closed. "Oh, yes, sorry. I forgot you were a  _mute_. I don't know why I didn't think to treat you with more  _respect_. But then again, it isn't my fault you're too stupid to learn to speak."  
The boys looked at her in shock, wondering how Trump could treat her so rudely. She held the tray out to them, as they all declined. "We should probably play, sir," Calum suggested.  
"Oh, yes, go ahead."  
The boys took their places on the stage, as Michael started to pick the opening notes to  _She's Kinda Hot_. They played flawlessly, never missing a note, which was probably for the best. Anything less than perfect and they'd probably be sentenced to death.  
_"They say we’re losers and we’re alright with that_  
We are the leaders of the not-coming-back’s  
But we’re alright though (We’re alright though)  
Yeah, we’re alright though (We’re alright though)  
We are the kings and the queens of the new broken scene  
Yeah, we’re alright though (We're gonna be OK)"  they sang, looking anywhere but at Trump.  
As they finished playing the last few notes they looked up to see his sly smile.  
"Well boys, that was some performance. I always knew you were plotting against me."  
The boys' mouths fell open. "We weren't! I swear to God-" Michael stuttered out.  
"It's a shame I don't believe you. It wouldn't be the first revolution you've started. The New Broken Scene?" The boys were speechless. They never thought that one union of outcasts would get them in this kind of predicament. "Australia, why don't you- where is that girl?!" He screamed as looked around to see her missing. "JACOBS! FIND HER!" Jacobs sprinted out of the room. A few minutes passed in silence, as the four boys tried to melt into the floorboards. For the first time in any of their lives, they didn't want to be on stage. Jacobs returned, his arm clutched around Australia's wrist. "Where were you? Where was she, Jacobs?"  
"The women's room, sir."  
"Did I say you could use the bathroom? No!" Trump snatched her wrist out of Jacobs' hand, tossing the girl against the corner of the raised stage. There was a whimper as a pool of red began to appear on her forehead. "Now, Australia," Trump spoke through gritted teeth. "Why don't you show these boys downstairs to the slave- I mean  _maid_ quarters."  
The boys watched as the girl picked herself up from the ground. They detached themselves from their instruments and followed the girl, thinking it would probably be best to not get Trump any angrier than he was.  
Australia walked out of the room, her tense form moving with a delicate grace.  _Very admirable, considering she just got her head bashed in_ , Michael thought.  
"Hey, wait up," Michael called out to her, running a bit to catch up with her. Calum, Luke and Ashton exchanged a knowing look.  
"So, uh, I just wanted to say, you're not an idiot because you're mute. You should ignore what that arsehole says."  
"I know," Australia replied. The boys stopped in their tracks.  
"You just... spoke?" Michael stated questioningly.  
"Yeah, I tend to do that. What? You thought I was actually a mute?"  
"Well, uh, yeah."  
"I'm not. I just took an oath of silence. Heaps of us did. We take his shit and tell him nothing until we can find a way out of this hell hole. Now keep moving, before I bleed out."  
The boys followed her in silence from there, down corridor after corridor. They were fucked if they ever had to get out of this place in a hurry, it was like a maze. Australia led them into a lift that looked like it was newer than the rest of the building. "I hope you guys aren't afraid of the underground." They laughed, thinking she was joking. "I wasn't kidding. I  _don't_ kid," she informed, pressing the button for basement 5.  
"Holy fuck," Calum muttered.


	2. In Which An Underground Society Operates

Basement 5 was exactly how the boys had pictured it - which really wasn't a very comforting thought for any of them. It was dimly lit and had large stone walls. A cavern. The only surprising thing was the number of people down there. Guards flanked the cavern walls, watching the five people as they passed by. At the end of the room was a large set of double doors that looked like the only other way in or out of the corridor.  
Australia was leading them toward the double doors, but just as they reached them, she took a sharp left, heading up a hallway that was so well hidden the boys probably wouldn't have found it without her. As she walked, Michael continued bombarding her with questions, like "how long have you been here?" and "how do you stay sane?" and "what's behind those doors?", but the girl just kept ignoring him. They rounded a corner and found themselves at what looked like a medical ward. "Where are we?" Michael asked, only to get ignored again.  
"Dude, she's not going to answer you, just give up," Luke said to him. Australia smirked.  
"We're in the medical ward. I thought we should stop here, before you had to find your own way back to slave central and explain why you were carrying my dead body. You don't mind?" she asked, her voice coated in sarcasm.  
"Um, no?" Calum replied, his voice an octave higher than it should have been.  
"Great!"  
She sat down at a table covered in medical supplies as an older man in a doctors coat walked over to her, inspecting and cleaning the wound on her head. The boys stood awkwardly, unsure of where to look as the doctor began to sew up her wounds.   
"So, uh, is Australia your real name?" Michael asked again.  
Australia laughed. "It wasn't always, but it is now."  
"What does that mean?" Calum pressed.  
"You ask too many questions."  
The boys looked at the ground sheepishly. They waited in silence as the doctor sewed up the gaping cut where her forehead had collided with the stage. As he mopped up the last remaining traces of blood, Australia looked up into the eyes of the boys. "So tell me, do you guys dream of being stuck in a room full of girls?"  
A smirk grew on Ashton's face. "We're Rockstars. We don't have to dream about it." Australia's eyes bore into the boy's, trying to tell if he was serious. Ashton gulped, his resolve weakening under her deadly stare. "Yes, we dream about it."  
Now it was Australia's turn to smirk. "Well, you're dreams are about to come true," she said as she pushed herself off of the examination table and led the boys back out of the hallway, and through the giant double doors.  
Inside was a giant, dank, cavernous room, filled with hundreds of sets of bunk beds. As they entered, hundreds of barely covered girls turned to face them, death and tiredness in their eyes. The girls started taking slow, threatening steps toward the boys, inhumane growls emanating from their mouths. A high-pitched whimper left Michael's mouth, followed by a cough as he tried to cover it up and appear strong. Australia stepped forward, holding her hands up in surrender. "You're just going to let them kill us!" Ashton screeched at her.  
"Will you shut up?" Australia snapped back. As her hands remained in the same position, the girls slowly started to return to their normal state, mouths closing and bodies relaxing. It was as though Australia had communicated with them without even speaking. Like they had developed their own language, or way of reading each others minds.  
"That was cool," Michael said, voice unnaturally high as he attempted to regain his composure. Australia led them through the hall, toward the farthest corner of the room.   
"These are the spare bunks, you guys can have them for the night." She gestured to the two sets of bunk beds they now stood in front of.  
"Wait, why only until morning?" Luke asked.  
"That's when you'll be taken away. You get one night here. No idea what happens after that. Maybe you get tried. Maybe you get killed. But hey, not my problem. Besides, you'll be lucky to survive the night."  
Michael gulped. "Why?"  
"Because every single girl in this room has been starving for the past who knows how long. Some of them have resorted to cannibalism. And although we know they would never hurt another person who lives here... let's just say that the guys who stay the night don't have the best track record."   
The boys looked between each other, now more scared than they had ever thought possible.  
"You're probably not going to die, Australia here just likes to make things sound worse than they are. Only two guys have ever been killed down here." A voice sounded from behind the boys, making them jump. Her laugh chimed from behind them as she pushed past them to stand by Australia's side. "I'm Mexico."  
"Is everyone here named after a country?" Michael asked.  
"Yeah, more or less. It got kinda confusing when there were double ups, so we had to come up with other names for them. But nobody uses their old names."  
"Why?"  
Australia and Mexico made eye contact, as though having a mental conversation. "It's getting late," Australia said. "You should sleep." With that, she took Mexico's arm and left the boys to climb into their bunks and draw the curtains closed, plunging themselves into dark.


	3. In Which Wise Words Are Spoken

Michael couldn't sleep. It wasn't exactly surprising, considering the circumstance - a strange bed in a strange underground place surrounded by potentially cannibal girls who were whispering in hushed voices not too far from his bunk. He was cold. There weren't enough blankets on the bunk, and he could hear Calum's snores echoing down from the bunk above him. He couldn't make out a word the girls were saying, only murmurs and the occasional mention of his name. He could have sworn he heard someone say "eat them" once, but he decided to put that down to his nerves. He lay there, staring at the dip above him, waiting for something to happen. Or maybe not waiting for something to happen. Because if something were to happen, chances are it would be bad.  
The only thing that pulled him out of his trance-like state was the scrape and creak that could only mean one thing - the doors were opening. Michael pulled at the curtain, opening it just enough to see what was going on outside. What he saw was movement. Girls rushing to bunks, soldiers marching in. The flurry seemed so unnatural to Michael, and yet at the same time, it seemed so natural for everyone outside the confines of the haven that was his bunk.  
He saw the soldiers reach the centre of the room and grab a girl with short, dirty black hair that looked as though it had been cut by someone who didn't know what they were doing and olive skin around the waste and drag her back down as she climbed into her bunk. The girl screamed and cried as everyone locked themselves away inside their bunks. The girl was carried away as she kicked and fought. Michael could do nothing but sit there, speechless. He stared off into space, not even noticing when a girl crouched in front of him.  
"I'm sorry you had to see that." Australia's voice rang out in the silence.  
"So am I," Michael replied. Australia's hands came up through the gap in the curtain to cup Michael's face. As a tear rolled down the boy's paler than usual face, she wiped it away.  
"Shh," she soothed, "it's gonna be OK." As Michael's tears grew heavier and heavier, she climbed into the bunk with him and held him close, her hand rubbing the back of his head in soothing circles. "It's OK," she repeated, "just let it out. The strongest of us cry the night we arrive. The strongest of us cry every night. Strength is about holding your own in front of your enemies, and being yourself in front of your allies - even if that does mean breaking down sometimes."  
She held him close, burying his head into her chest as he cried. It was all too much. He'd seen things that he couldn't even have imagined. "Why are you telling me this?" Michael asked.  
"Because it will only get worse from here," she said. Michael looked up into her eyes, seeing nothing but pity in them.  _She pities_ _me_ , Michael thought, _after all she's been through, she pities me_. "I promise I'll get you out of here," she says, unsure why she feels the need to protect him from seeing any more.   
"Thank you," Michael said, wiping his eyes. "After all you've been through, you're taking care of me. I feel like I should be the one comforting you. I mean, your friend did just get dragged away." And then her lips were on his. There was no passion, just contact. Michael moved is lips against her, trying to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away.  
"Sorry. I thought that was probably the only way to get you to shut up."  
"I don't mind," Michael replied, although he felt slightly hurt.  _That's not right_ , Michael thought.  _I shouldn't feel hurt. I don't like her. She's just a person. I don't even know her._    
Their eyes locked once more, and this time, she didn't kiss him to shut him up. She couldn't have, because he wasn't talking.  _It's just the stress_ , Australia thought.  _That's the only thing making me do this._  
The kiss grew deeper, as their lips moved together in a dance. Her hand began to slip under the hem of his shirt, and, being quite experienced in the sex department, Michael got the hint and removed it, barely even breaking the kiss to do so. Her hand grazed along his chest, tickling him ever so slightly, before moving up to tangle in the back of his hair. Australia deepened the kiss, and Michael began to lift the hem of her shirt.  
_What am I doing?_ Australia thought.  
"Stop," she commanded the boy.   
"What's wrong?" Michael replied.  
"This. I just... I can't... I'm sorry," Australia stuttered, lowering her strong facade momentarily. She gathered herself and climbed out of the bunk, returning to her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I feel like these are getting shorter and coming out less often as I go. Things have been hectic and they will continue to be, but I will try to publish more often, or at least consistently. Until next time, friendos.


End file.
